Ushering in 101 years of suck.
On October 3 of last year, FLP! was born. Before transferring over to Hire Jim Essian, The Bottom 126 had a modest following that has made HJE a mild success. Yay? Anyhow, thanks to everyone who’s been with me since the beginning, and thanks to those of you who followed the party over to HJE.
I think there may be a fair number of you who have “The Bottom 126” tagged who may not have gotten the news that The Bottom 126 (along with the rest of this crazy operation) has moved to Hire Jim Essian! The content at the new domain is going to be virtually identical to the content here, so please update your bookmarks. Oh, and I also tagged this entry with every other tag, just in case you have one of those tagged. Hope to see you at the new site.
Okay, you guys. First of all, with all this “Jim Essian” nonsense, I didn’t get a chance for a Friday roundup. Instead, you can just go over to Desipio and get the same insulting effect.
MORE IMPORTANTLY…
…I’m sick of the pimple-faced, arrogant, bedwetting little cocksmoker who owns the “Fire Lou Piniella!” domain (please do NOT give him the pleasure of going to the actual site; I’ll save you the trip and tell you it’s an idiotic link to Cafe Press with a lot of shitty “Fire Lou!” crap) getting traffic on his site thanks to all of my work (screw you, Kermit). Plus, as Kermit mentioned, you freaks are multiplying like roaches, so it’s about damn time Kermit sacked up and got his own domain.
With that said, we’re taking this operation over to Hire Jim Essian! TJBrown deserves mounds and mounds and mounds of praise for coming up with idea for the domain. Guess what? He won’t get it from me. But Kermit told me to mention how much he appreciates not only TJ’s idea, but all of you idiots who keep coming over here and reading, making the new domain a worthwhile enterprise.
A few things about the new site:
I don’t hope to see you over there.
-Sweet Uncle Lou
Thanks to you fine folks, we’re starting to get a little bit of traffic at Fire Lou Piniella! What this means is that we should probably pursue our own domain name. Here is the problem. Both fireloupiniella.com and fireloupiniella.net are currently registered, and the owners of both sites don’t look to be giving them up anytime soon, even though the sites are pretty much profiting off this site. Don’t go look at them. Just trust me. I’ve tried all kinds of combinations, including firelou.com, among others. I don’t particularly want to have annoying dashes like fire-lou-piniella.com, nor do I want something too long like theofficialfireloupiniella.com (although I might change my mind on that one). Hell, even the misspelled fireloupinella.com is taken.
Here’s what I was thinking. Since you guys are the ones who have to read my nonsense, and since you are the ones who’ve kept me inspired to keep the blog updated, can you guys and gals help me come up with a new domain name?
Since I did this (poorly) with Dusty Baker, and since I’ll most likely continue to do this long after Lou is gone, I’ve been trying to brainstorm some type of generic domain, such as firethecubscoach.com. But, frankly, that sort of sucks.
So, I propose a “Name That Blog!” contest. The prize is nothing but the satisfaction of a job well done. So, you really have no incentive to do help, other than the fact that you might be tired of typing in the currently lengthy domain address. If you have an idea, let’s hear it in the comments section.
To be fair, Steve Buechele probably wasn’t as bad as you remember him. But to quote the great Walter Sobchak, “Fair? Fair? Who gives a shit about fair?” Find me 10 Cubs fans who watched the team in the early 90s, and I guarantee 9 of them will cringe when the hear the name “Steve Buechele.” You just cringed, didn’t you?
Steve Buechele? Or Chick Gandil from Eight Men Out?
Buechele was the Cubs’ regular third baseman after coming over from Pittsburgh in 1992 in a trade which sent Danny Jackson to the Pirates. Buechele played badly enough that, by 1995, he was released by the Cubs in favor of Todd Zeile. I think that’s the dictionary definition of a “lateral move.”
A good portion of Buchele’s Cub career was spent walking from third base to the plate, taking three strikes, and walking back to third. The rest of his time was spent trying to return the ball to opposing batters with his foot. I’ll give him credit extra hate for having a bit of a Joey Gladstone thing going for him.
Cut it out, Steve. Cut. It. Out.
Low Point: From Buechele’s Wikipedia page, “the 25 times he was hit by a pitch is the 13th highest in the Rangers’ franchise history and his 73 grounded into double plays is the 14th highest.” They then point out that he’s eligible for the Texas Rangers’ Hall of Fame. Nice juxtaposition.
Did You Know? Buechele was one of the hosts and coaches for the Texas Rangers 2006 Media Spring Training. I’m not sure why media needs Spring Training, although I might hire Buechele to tell Gordon Wittenmyer to “take it down a notch.”
We won again. Yay. But our pitching sucks. Boo. But Soriano hit a leadoff homer. Yay. But he high-fives like a homo. Boo.
“Don’t you guys still do the ass-patting thing over here?”
Honestly, if the pitching is going to be this crappy, I’d rather take an extra bat north than a 12th pitcher. I don’t mean a hitter. I mean a wooden bat. And not even a game bat. The one that Trammell uses to hit grounders to Ramirez (or, as Trammell and I call him, “Dorn”).
Speaking of pitching, Miller might be my fifth starter when the dust settles. Why? Did you see Prior pitch the other day? That kid is about as tough as an $80 steak, and as Mike Krukow points out, it’s time to stop putting baby powder on his candy ass. It’s time to put up or shut up, Golden Boy.
I hate walks. Hate ’em. It’s called “hitting,” not “walking,” dude. Nah, I’m just fucking with you. You should have seen the look on your face, though. I do hate walks, but I hate when our pitchers issue them, not when our batters take them. You know who else hates them? Zambrano. So, watch out, walks. If you see me and Big Z walking toward you on the street, you’d better just cross your ass over to the other side, put your head down, and just keep on movin’.
Mr. Fancy Pants Sissy Boy wrote an article about Miller being the 5th starter over at Desipio. If you’re not sick of all the bullshit he shovels around here, you might consider going over there to read it.
Well, I have to get going. I want to get a good seat in the dugout so I can watch Maddux picking his nose with reckless abandon throughout the whole game. Didn’t that guy ever learn there are cameras pointed at those dugouts?
-Sweet Uncle Lou
If I were ever granted an interview with Darren Lewis, and I was only allowed one question, my question would be, “What was the whole thing with the lips?” While at bat, Darren Lewis looked like someone had just smeared peanut butter all over his gums. Maybe it was a ploy to distract us from the fact that he wasn’t going to make any attempt to actually hit the ball.
Seriously, does that smell like feta cheese to you?
Darren Lewis was a bad player on an atrocious 2002 Cubs team. If you can stomach it, click here and just take a slack-jawed gander at that roster. Wow. Not a lot to like there.
Lewis was a year ahead of his time. If anyone was a “Dusty Baker guy,” it was Lewis, with his lack of baseball talent, his reputation as a “speedy” guy, and his ability to play in day games. Unfortunately for Lewis, he joined the Cubs a year before Baker did. Unfortunately for Cubs fans, Lewis joined the Cubs at all.
Low Point: The last at-bat of a Major League player’s career has always fascinated me. Everyone hopes to go out on a walk-off, World Series-winning home run. What would be the exact opposite of that fairy tale ending? That would be the Darren Lewis ending. In his last at-bat in the Major Leagues, Lewis popped out on a bunt attempt. Lewis was traded the next day to the Pittsburgh Pirates for Chad Hermansen. Instead of going to the Pirates, Lewis retired. Yes, Pirates, playing for your team is a fate worse than baseball death. Not with a bang, but a whimper, eh, Darren?
Did You Know? Dusty Baker is such a fan of Lewis, that he named his son after him. His son Darren. But then, Dusty Baker is an idiot.
MESA, Ariz.–Spring Training is a time for pitchers to experiment with pitches they have never thrown before, and for the Cubs pitching staff, it is no different. Cubs pitching coach Larry Rothschild has been working with the entire Cubs pitching staff in developing a new pitch which he likes to call a “strike.”
“I just figured it was about time some of these guys learned a new pitch,” Rothschild said sleepily. “I know that Zambrano has that nasty slider and Hill has that big curveball, but it’s good to keep the batters on their toes,” he continued, smoothing out his creased pajama top.
“Imagine how much filthier Hill’s breaking ball in the dirt will be if the batter has, in the back of his mind: ‘Hey. It’s possible on this 3-0 pitch that this kid might actually throw a strike,'” Rothschild mused as he wiped crust from the corner of his eye.
Jason Marquis experiments with a “strike” moments before a ball is lined back at his face.
Successfully throwing the new pitch might not be easy.
“It’s a learning process,” Rothschild said, stifling a yawn. “These guys aren’t used to throwing a strike, so there are going to be some problems with it initially. Take Prior, for instance. Every strike he threw the other day got drilled,” Rothschild said as he eased back into a reclined position.
“But don’t worry. He’ll figure it out. And if he doesn’t, he can always go back to throwing balls.”
Yeah, I’m writing this during a game. What of it? No one’s paid a lick of attention to me since I got here, anyhow, no matter how much I scream and yell. By the way, that little speech already matched Dusty Baker’s “bitch the team out” total in the three years he was here. Wait. It was four years? Man, that guy really was a pussy. I made Prior cry during the talk, but only once. I’ll try harder next time.
Either he misplayed that ball, or that ball weighs 80 pounds.
In case you haven’t heard, Kermit and I are writing over at Desipio for a while to help that Dolan kid out. Dolan’s a good shit, even if he’s making more work for us. Kermit put up his first post today, but the idiot can’t figure out how to link it to the Desipio message board. Nice work. Real professional, Kermit. You’re making us look like a couple of chumps. Anyhow, Kermit writes about how Zambrano and Lilly are batshit crazy, yet forgets to point out that I’M THE FREAKING POWDERKEG, BITCHES!!!
Here’s a question. What am I supposed to do with the eighteen #5 starters that Hendry collected for me? Marquis is clearly a lock in the #4 spot, just because I want to see if I can give Hendry another grabber. But then I have Prior, Cotts, Miller, Marshall, Guzman, Marmol, and about 50 other guys who all keep sending me boxes of chocolate for the 5th starter spot. I’ll wait until next week, when 14 or 15 injuries thin the herd.
The Sun-Times‘ “Tribune on Trial” series gets even dumber with this interview of The Score’s Mike Murphy. I’d like to give that dude an enema with the gravy from Brown’s Chicken.
McDonough was talking shop the other day. One of the things he mentioned was that Selig bitched us out for spending too much money during the offseason. I was surprised to hear that, seeing as how I thought Selig died three years ago.
Hey, Ozzie. Thanks for the advice on how to manage a baseball team. Now here’s some advice for you: FUCK. OFF.
Prior and Wood still aren’t hurt, no matter how many banana peels and Micro Machines I leave lying around Prior’s locker.
Well, I gotta go. Zambrano is screaming about something and Prior’s curled up in the fetal position at the end of the bench.
-Sweet Uncle Lou
Back in college, my friends and I had a saying. When everyone was counting on you to come through and do something and you let them down, those folks who were counting on you got “Rey Ordonez’ed.” For example. Bottom of the 9th. Your co-rec kickball team is down 18-17. The girl you really like is there watching you. Bases loaded. Two outs. The pitcher winds up and rolls! You swing your leg and completely miss the ball. As your leg is coming down, your heel lands on the ball and you hyperextend your knee. And then you realize the ball is a puppy, and the girl you like is having sex with the winning pitcher on the mound. You ruined the season, you blew out your knee, you lost the girl, and you killed a puppy. Congratulations, you just Rey Ordonez’ed your team. And the puppy.
Rey, at top right, is usually expected to “talk to the fat one.”
Three questions: 1. Are all shortstops required to wear that chain around their necks? 2. Why are Alex Gonzalez and Rey Ordonez in this picture? 3. What sports men’s magazine would run such a picture?
Is it any wonder that Ordonez made the Bottom 126? Middle infielder. Check. Strength of the love child of Sampson and Superman shaved bald and wearing kryptonite underwear. Check. Inexplicably bats leadoff all the time. Check. It was his destiny to be on this list.
To be clear, Ordonez didn’t just suck when he came over to the Cubs after a lengthy career with the Mets. He sucked the whole time. The difference is, if he would have stayed in New York (or Tampa Bay, for that matter) we wouldn’t have gotten Rey Ordonez’ed so many times.
Low Point: June 4, 2004. The Pirates are in town, and the Cubs are clinging to a 1-0 lead in the 8th. With 2 outs, Michael Barrett draws a walk, pushing Todd Hollandsworth to second base. Ordonez, having already gone 0-3 with a foul bunt out, comes up with a chance to give the Cubs some insurance. He strikes out swinging. In the top of the 9th, the Pirates, including Chris Stynes, of all people, score 2 runs. Cubs lose 2-1.
Did You Know? In 2002, Ordonez, angry with the boos he and double play partner Roberto Alomar were hearing, called the fans in New York “too stupid.” Too stupid for… what, exactly?
Hot as a Kerry Wood fastball.
Fire Lou Piniella! 